


make me feel

by IneffableInsomniac



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Wing Grooming, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 21:27:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19472551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableInsomniac/pseuds/IneffableInsomniac
Summary: crowley needs to preen his wings more often. or he can let aziraphale do it for him!this is very self-indulgent with next to no plot and also it's my first time writing x-rated content. feel free to leave constructive criticism!





	make me feel

**Author's Note:**

> alternate title: Anthony Jorts Crowley has been pining for six thousand slutty, slutty years  
> heavily influenced by a multitude of supernatural wing fics that i read in like eighth grade whoops. also FUCK proofreading i wrote this in one sitting (while listening to janelle monae) and i wanna post :3

"Crowley, when was the last time you groomed your wings?"

The demon looked up sharply from an old copy of Gardens Illustrated towards Aziraphale, who continued to sip his tea and leaf through a dusty old leather-bound book whose title had faded with age. Crowley made a very deliberate effort not to blush at the question - he was a demon, someone-damn-it, he would not be flustered by a completely innocent question from his best friend - and spoke slowly.

"Can't remember. Don't particularly care, why do you ask?"

This response was apparently enough to distract his angel from his reading, as Aziraphale shifted his eyes to the demon in the opposite armchair.

"Crowley! That's just- well, it's just- it's unsanitary! It's just as important as showering, you know."

"Why are you so upset, angel?" Crowley used his pet name for Aziraphale, hoping it would get him off of his case. "It's not like I use them much. I barely have them out!"

Unfortunately for the demon, his angelic counterpart wasn't letting the issue go that easily. "Well, it doesn't matter that- it's still- you NEED to clean them!" Aziraphale, oddly enough, looked almost as flustered as Crowley felt. 

Crowley's wings were not his favorite feature, serving as a black reminder of his downward saunter (he! did! not! fall!), and he preferred to keep them hidden. They were also a bit more sensitive to touch than most, and grooming them was a slow process. If he wasn't gentle and careful, he ended up pulling out excess feathers and leaving his wings sore for days afterwards. Crowley was not a patient demon.

He decided to call the angel's bluff on the matter, looking back down at his magazine in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner. "If you care so much, why don't you preen them?" Crowley wasn't able to prevent the color creeping over his cheekbones at the thought of Aziraphale's heavenly hands carding through his dark plumage, straightening feathers, sliding gently over his shoulderblades- No! Thinking was only making it worse. He silently prayed to someone that his ever-present sunglasses would hide the slight blush.

Crowley waited for a response from Aziraphale, and after a few seconds, he looked back over at him and-

Holy. Hell. The angel looked at least twice as red in the face as Crowley knew he himself was, and his mouth hung slightly open as he seemed to take in what the demon had suggested. Preening was generally fairly personal, and although Aziraphale didn't know the full extent of Crowley's hang-ups regarding his wings, he knew that the demon did not like them being touched. He seemed to collect himself quickly, and shot back, "Fine! If you won't, I- I guess I will." The angel seemed to lose his confidence rapidly over the course of the sentence, ending up with an inflection that sounded much more like a question than a statement.

Crowley silently cursed his smart mouth for taking the conversation down this path. Still, he couldn't deny to himself that the idea of Aziraphale grooming him wasn't an unpleasant one (especially if the warm feeling below his stomach had anything to say about it). "Sure," he confirmed, trying - and probably failing - to sound calm and collected and not at all turned on.

"I- well, um-" Aziraphale stumbled over his words, trying desperately to find the right ones as he rose from his chair. "How do you want to- I don't, uh-" He didn't seem to be able to form a full sentence as he gestured vaguely with his hands, but Crowley understood the question well enough.

"Here," Crowley stated, moving from his sprawled position on the loveseat to a seated one on one end with his back facing the other. If he was a little pink in the face before, he was certain that he now glowed a bright red. "You can, uh, sit behind me?" he suggested to the ruffled-looking angel.

"Ye- yes, that, ah, that would work," Aziraphale responded, making no move to sit down. Crowley patted the cushion next to him, snapping the principality out of his daze.

In an exaggerated motion more suited to the demon's lanky frame, Aziraphale took a few steps over to the loveseat and sat gingerly onto the seat next to Crowley, as if he feared that too forceful or sudden of a movement would disturb or spook the demon and prevent whatever was about to take place from, well, taking place.

The two sat there for a few tense moments, Crowley with his torso turned to lock eyes (or rather, sunglasses) with Aziraphale. Just as Aziraphale mustered up the courage to break the charged silence with a quip or some of the outdated slang that he knew Crowley only pretended to detest, Crowley exhaled sharply, turned his back entirely to the angel, and summoned his wings, careful not to whack Aziraphale in the face with them.

Aziraphale gasped lightly. He had seen Crowley's wings plenty of times! Nothing to get flustered about! BUT, he had never seen them this close up or taken the time to study them. Sure, they looked like plain black feathers from afar, but up close, Aziraphale could see an iridescense to them, like the rainbow produced by an oil slick. In the soft incandescent light of the bookstore, Crowley looked ethereal- no, angelic. The angel decided he would concern himself with the cause of the warmth in his ribcage (and his gut) at a later, more appropriate time and focused his errant train of thought back to the task at hand.

Frustratingly for him, Crowley could not see Aziraphale as a result of his wings. He opened his mouth to ask his angel just WHAT he was doing back there, as he had heard and felt nothing for quite a long moment. "Angel, what's the hold- MMH!" The demon shut his mouth quickly to stifle the moan that Aziraphale's sudden ministrations had produced. His face was excruciatingly hot as the angel spoke.

"Crowley, are you alright? I didn't hurt anything, did I?" Aziraphale asked with genuine concern and kindness in his tone. Crowley collected himself before answering (someone-damn-it it was NOT easy to think coherently with Zira's hands still threaded into his feathers) and managed to choke out a "Yep, fine," before deciding to just keep his traitorous mouth shut. He felt very betrayed by his human form, most especially by the heat pooling in his abdomen and the tightening of his leather pants, a reaction to his friend that he really did _not_ appreciate!

Thoroughly satisfied that Crowley was fine and thoroughly unsettled and aroused by the noise he had just made, Aziraphale continued his preening. He gently combed his fingers through the soft plumage of the demon's coverts, straightening feathers and placing any loose down feathers in a neat pile on the nearby coffee table.

Crowley wasn't certain whether this was pure pleasure or torture. He knew he shouldn't be feeling this way about such a close friend, but Zira's hands were so gentle and warm, and his wings hadn't seen this kind of attention in ages, and-

Oh dear. Aziraphale switched his focus to Crowley's secondaries, sending a chill down the demon's spine and eliciting a pleased, throaty hum from him. The angel felt a rather un-virtuous wave of heat spread through his body at the noise. He was no stranger to these feelings, but now was a VERY inopportune time for them to be rearing their head, and he decided to push them down and muscle through them for the time being.

"Angel?" Crowley broke the comfortable quiet of the bookshop. "Would you, aaAH, mind doing my- mmm- my scapulars?"

Crowley almost felt guilty requesting this, as his motives in asking Zira to touch a very sensitive spot weren't entirely innocent. Almost.

Aziraphale didn't trust his tongue and instead complied wordlessly with the request, grooming the feathers nearest the juncture between the angel's back and his wings. Since Crowley had manifested his wings through his clothes rather than removing them (one of his "minor demonic miracles,") Zira couldn't get at the actual joint, but that didn't seem to matter to Crowley, who had for a moment forgotten his inhibitions and let out an honest-to-Satan moan.

Aziraphale had ignored and excused all of the noises until then as simply appreciative and pleased, but there was no mistaking this one for anything other than sexual. This (fairly unsurprising) realization stopped Aziraphale completely and caused his body to react in a number of frustratingly human ways.

Crowley was so lost to his celestial backrub that his fogged brain didn't register what had just happened until the angel's hands stopped entirely. He quickly realized what he had just done and was hit with an ice-cold wave of embarrassment that did nothing to reduce his arousal. He turned carefully to face Aziraphale, pulling his wings close to avoid any impacts. "Shit, Zira, I-" he began an apology before he was cut off.

"Crowley." He stated, silencing the demon immediately. "Are you enjoying this- um, well- in the-" He paused and swallowed dryly. "In the, ah, carnal sense?"

Under any other circumstances, Crowley would have poked fun at the angel's formal speech pattern and conservative word choice. As it stood, though, he was in no position to say anything. He looked intently down at the floorboards and nodded very slightly, far too embarrassed and far too hard to look Zira in the eye or form words. He kept his sunglasses on and his hands folded in his lap to hide as much of the evidence of his enjoyment as he could.

"Crowley." The angel spoke once more, placing his right hand under the demon's jaw and gently tilting his gaze back up to Aziraphale's. He removed Crowley's sunglasses with the other hand, placing them carefully next to the pile of discarded down feathers, and-

Fuck. The sunglasses really had hidden Crowley's state in more ways than one. Not only could the angel now fully appreciate his vivid blush, but he could see that Crowley's slit-like pupils were dilated heavily, taking up almost half of his visible eye. Aziraphale felt truly blessed to see such a gorgeous sight.

"Would you like me to help you out with that?" Aziraphale asked, nodding generally downward and towards Crowley's erection, not at all hidden by his hands (damn these leather pants! Crowley thinks to himself).

"I, well, I, uh, um," the demon stammered, wanting to tell Zira a million things at once, and eventually settling on a moaned "please."

Aziraphale couldn't resist any longer, and he surged forward, placing his lips gently against Crowley's. Crowley pushed back in response, deepening the kiss and pressing his tongue against Aziraphale's, tasting his angel for the first time. Maybe he was a hopeless romantic, but he could swear that Aziraphale tasted like apples.

As the pair continued to kiss, Crowley pushed the jacket off of Zira's shoulders and began to fumble with the buttons of his waistcoat. Aziraphale, meanwhile, guided his hands back to Crowley's scapulae, prompting the demon to moan against his mouth.

Panting, Crowley pulled away from the kiss. "Your wings- I want- please," he hissed between breaths, and Aziraphale understood immediately. Without a second thought, his white wings unfurled from his back, and the impatient demon had his hands in the coverts of Zira's wings almost instantly, prompting a rather lustful noise from the angel.

The two celestials remained like this for a few moments before Crowley composed himself and spoke with his usual facade of nonchalance. "Angel, I'm enjoying this, but there are far too many clothes in the way. Do you mind if I-?" he trailed off, snapping once to indicate his intentions.

"Not at all," Zira responded. Crowley snapped, and the two were both in their undergarments.

"Now, where were we?" Crowley quipped.

Aziraphale grinned wickedly. "I believe I was about to do this," he said playfully as he guided Crowley into a reclined position on the couch with one hand while beginning to palm his hardness through his underwear with the other. Crowley rewarded this with another low, drawn-out moan of pleasure. He'd only been waiting 6000 years for this, after all. Might as well be loud.

Wanting to reciprocate despite his preoccupation with whatever Zira was doing with his hand, holy shit, who taught him that?, Crowley ran his hands reverently over the angel's bare chest, thumbing over his nipples as he did so. The motion caused Aziraphale to arch his spine and keen quietly.

Crowley decided that he had found Zira's weakness, and he leaned forward to run his tongue over the peak of the angel's nipple, pulling a louder noise from Aziraphale's throat.

In a feeble attempt to muffle his sounds, the principality pressed his face into the hollow of Crowley's throat, pressing kisses and then a gentle nip to the flesh. The latter of those actions wrung a gasp from Crowley unlike any other thus far, and Zira smiled gently knowing that the demon was thoroughly enjoying their activities.

However, Aziraphale had had enough of this and decided to spur things along by slipping his hand under the waistband of Crowley's underwear and wrapping his hand slowly around the demon's shaft, earning him an appreciative string of mumbled curses and a rather lovely facial expression that Zira immediately knew he wanted to see much more of in the future.

While Crowley was still reeling from the angel's surprisingly forward nature, Aziraphale began stroking his partner's cock, which Crowley had apparently used another minor demonic miracle to lubricate. He brought his other hand up to tangle in the demon's auburn hair, already quite mussed up from their activities.

Crowley had abandoned his reciprocations in favor of gripping onto the upholstery, leaving Zira free to shift his body farther down the loveseat and position his mouth near his lover's dick. Crowley, realizing the angel's intention, pulled his elbows back so he could sit up and look down at Zira.

Aziraphale locked eyes with Crowley and held eye contact as he licked the underside of the head, forcing the demon to break said eye contact as he tilted his head back and groaned loudly. Zira, pleased with this response, placed his lips around the tip of Crowley's dick and began to suck gently, running his tongue and mouth over the head of the demon's cock.

"God- angel- don't stop, haahh!" Crowley continued to mumble praises and curses alike, carding his fingers gently through the angel's soft blonde locks as Aziraphale took more of his shaft into his mouth until he began to choke. Although it would be simple for him to suppress or even do away with his gag reflex, he enjoyed the feeling for reasons he didn't understand, and decided that he would refrain from a minor angelic miracle of his own.

Suddenly, Crowley pulled Aziraphale gently off of his cock, causing the angel to look questioningly up at him. "I want- want to touch you," Crowley explained. Aziraphale took the hint, and moved back up the couch so that he was at eye level with Crowley.

Crowley took the lead, pushing Zira's underwear slowly down to his knees before taking both of their dicks into his hand and stroking them together. Aziraphale's hips canted forward at the sudden stimulation, and he leaned down to meet Crowley in a kiss as he continued to thrust into Crowley's hand.

With his hands free, Aziraphale chose to return to his original activity and resumed feeling up Crowley's wings. He cried out loudly. "Angel, I'm- ahh! I'm close," he murmured to his lover.

"Me too," Aziraphale replied. He leaned back down to capture Crowley's mouth in a kiss, biting down gently onto the demon's lower lip, and with that, Crowley was moaning loudly as he came, spurts of come spilling over his hand and Zira's own dick. This spurred the angel over the edge of orgasm, and he hissed Crowley's name through his teeth as he was hit with wave after wave of pleasure.

Once he had cooled down a bit, Crowley snapped his fingers yet again, and the mess of come vanished from their bodies and, to Aziraphale's delight, from the cushions of the loveseat.

"Oh, thank you. This is an antique, got it in the 18th century, and trying to clean it would have been a nightmare-" Crowley, enamored, cut off his angel's rambling with a gentle kiss that Zira reciprocates softly and sweetly.

"So, was this your intention when you mentioned my wings?" Crowley joked to the angel laying draped over him. To the demon's surprise, instead of laughing, Zira suddenly looks very, very guilty.

"Wait - you knew?" Crowley asked, confused. "Here I was, thinking you were all soft and innocent, and you preened my wings to rile me up!" He laughs. "Angel, you really are something."

Aziraphale grins. "I know you don't much care for the word, but honestly? I thought that was rather nice."

Crowley fakes a grimace, trying and failing to keep a straight face before the pair burst out laughing. "I suppose so. If this is what it entails, maybe I'll be nice more often in the future."

"What do you think about being nice again right now?" Zira asks, cocking an eyebrow.

"Whatever you want, angel."

**Author's Note:**

> i should not have thesaurus access hfjdhfjsfhskf  
> lmk what you think! i've never written smut before or posted my writing anywhere so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> edit: i forgot to mention it but there is a john mulaney quote hidden in here!


End file.
